21:12

To K. and G.

I'm pondering, what will I say?
Maybe just that I'll call later, but that's already three quarters of a lie,
If only for the time being.
I can at best unlive with my worst noises,
So that I keep so silent...
How could I then, dare speak with others?
For the rain has turned so dark and dry
And all my woes, a sweeter lullaby!
The ways through the city, so salty and illuminated
From the Christian smells of the summer,
All the voices are highways, of marshmallows, leading us to slumber.
The night so old, from surplus of days
And the beloved traveller, so distant and warm.
But yourself, so frozen from the rapid motion
Seeking the compassion of the stranger
If only for the lack of passion, the ratio,
Your own somber descent, into the eyelids of the passing.
The tawdry is always the finest, makes you oblivious of your presence
In concealing so swiftly, the stumbling of the present...
But cowardice is a willow, it yellows and yells
With the voice of the breach on the edge
And the mistake is repeated again, the painting never changes...
For your body ills so swiftly, you're not up for complications
But on that account, you bind yourself to them,
In order to delay one day more or two, that final laughter
And alas! You can never jump over Rhodes!
That's how I keep so silent, shield myself inside the rain.